Serrated Edge Cries
by Sherlohn
Summary: Replays Gabriel's death scene.


On a lonely Indiana highway, there lived The Elysian Fields Hotel. A beautiful four star establishment, it sported the latest in interior design (solid oak desks with a waxy finish and tiny sculptures that border on pointless yet supposedly speak volumes) as well as catering the best to a vast yet select clientele. This clientele currently consisted of seven gods, two rebellious archangels, two self-tortured hunters of the supernatural and a human part or twenty.

One of those angels was Lucifer, there to murder every pagan god under the roof of The Elysian Fields Hotel and remove the hunters, Sam and Dean Winchester, from the premises in, say, five minutes. The gods were proving to be an annoyance with their baby schemes to kill him and his brother, Michael and, quite frankly, they stood in his way of the hunters. He would take pleasure in crushing their hearts, peeling the flesh from their bones and plucking the eyeballs from their skulls.

Unaware of another archangel's presence, Lucifer prowled the hallways. The elaborate wallpaper depicted a repeating pattern of a pagan god striking an angel with a lightning bolt, his wings curled beneath his arching body as the bolt struck his heart from above._ So that's how they want to play it, hey? _Lucifer thought as he casually put his fist through the god's face and effortlessly dragged it through the row of god's faces as he walked. Some sizeable chunks of brick and a powdery dust covered the royal blue carpet as he went, smirking. Having destroyed the décor, he now looked forward to destroying _them_.

The next three and a half minutes were a blur of blood splatters and white pain and serrated edge cries and velvet snarls and a tang of death. A thick glove of red blood coated Lucifer's hand as he slid it seamlessly from inside the chest of a dark haired god, his heart now crushed to a messy pulp. "For the wallpaper" he snarled in his ear as the sixth body dropped like a stone. Smiling, his eyes roved the plush room like a predator's, taking in Sam and Dean Winchester and the last pagan in his way. Her pretty features were distorted with rage and evidence of it crept up her arms in licking flames; Lucifer thought of her as an angry kitten in need of a firm hand. She extended her arm and lashed at him with waves of fire and heat and rage, the flames wrapped themselves around his body, twining together. Okay then, she was in need of a _very _firm hand Lucifer thought, correcting himself before dousing the flames with a thought and noticing Sam and Dean cowering behind a sofa. He gave the pagan a "what else have you got?" look, she was thrown off by his obvious ease and came a step too close in her anger. So he threw her across the length of the room with a punch and a devilish smile and then raised his foot above her head where she lay, aiming the killing blow, when he himself went skittering backwards across the floor in shock. He stood, holding the stance of an attacker yet ready to defend himself from… Gabriel?

Gabriel, archangel and Lucifer's brother, stood between Satan and the last of his prey. Gabriel, his _brother_, instructed Sam and Dean to take the fiery god away. _His brother_ was protecting the life of a pest as well as two humans from his _own family_. Lucifer couldn't understand; did nobody appreciate family? Or was he just the only one prey to constant betrayal? Gabriel had been unheard of for centuries and his first act when appearing is to betray his brother. Big mistake. Nobody was disloyal to Lucifer and lived.

Gabriel mimicked his stance at the opposite end of the room, only where Lucifer had a glove of blood, Gabriel had an archangel's blade. And this appeared to boost his confidence extortionately.

"Lucy, I'm home"

Lucifer stalked towards him and Gabriel, in a flash, held the archangel's blade within an inch of his face with a grim twist to his features.

"Over a girl? Gabriel, really, I knew you were slumming but still," the angels circled each other, inching closer and closer, "I hope you didn't catch anything"

"Lucifer you're my brother and I love you but your presence really is an immoral poison that contaminates the most virtuous"

"What did you just say to me?"

"Look at yourself!" Gabriel cried, before turning to mimicry, "Oh boohoo, daddy was mean to me so I'm gonna smash up all his toys!"

"Watch your tone"

"Play the victim all you want but you and me, we know the truth. Dad loved you best. More than Michael, more than me. Than he brought the new baby home and you couldn't handle it. So all this is just a great big temper tantrum! Time to grow up"

Lucifer changed tactics by infusing his voice with a melancholy softness like a velvet cloaked razor blade. "Gabriel if you're doing this for Michael –" The other angel cut him off harshly, breaking off the circling by standing his ground. "Screw him! If he were standing here I'd kill him too"

And Lucifer threw off the velvet, exposing the razor blade.

"You disloyal piece of -" Gabriel cut him off again, this time with an edge of determination. "Oh I'm loyal to them" Lucifer almost exploded in disbelief; these puny creatures parading around calling themselves "gods" were what Gabriel, an archangel, swore his loyalty to? "Who? These so-called gods?" He asked.

"To _people_, Lucifer, people"

At that Lucifer pierced the very core of amazement. Disloyal did not even cover it. "So you're willing to die for a pile of cockroaches. Why?" His voice betrayed his disbelief even if his expression did not slip.

"Because dad was right, they _are _better than us"

"They are _broken_, _flawed abortions_"

"Damn right they're flawed, but a lot of them try. To do better, to forgive. I've been riding the vine a long time but I'm in the game now and I'm not on your side or Michael's. I'm on _theirs_"

Lucifer tried veiling the blade with velvet again with an extra layer of honey. Manipulation would be his new tactic and piercing sadness his new means of achieving it. "Brother don't make me do this"

_I will kill you. _The unspoken words between them were clearer than a bell.

"No one makes us do anything" What a _human _thing to say Lucifer thought.

"I know you think you're doing the right thing Gabriel, but I know where your heart truly lies"

Gabriel crept up behind Lucifer, the thick carpet disguising his footsteps. He could see the tensed muscles on his brother's back through his mangy t-shirt (Keeping up appearances apparently wasn't Lucifer's forte) where he stood conversing with a perfect illusion of Gabriel. One of the perks of being a trickster, he thought, is the art of deceiving and having distracted Lucifer with a fake Gabriel he would stab his brother in the back. He raised his blade.

And Lucifer spun to face him. In an instant the blade was turned on Gabriel, still in his own hand along with Lucifer's. And in a further instant, the tip of the blade was in his stomach. Pain, anger, fright, disbelief, horror, self-hatred, every negative feeling soaked him in that moment and he drowned in it, gasping for breath. Lucifer bent to murmur harshly in his ear. "Amateur hocus pocus. Don't forget, you learned all your tricks from me, little brother" He pushed the blade further through Gabriel with a cruel twist of his hand and the once impossibility of death forced itself upon on the merciful archangel, it slashed at him with its ruthless claws and tore him from the world. Liquid light spilled into the room as Gabriel died; he fell to the floor as it faded and a dusty imprint of his wings stamped onto the carpet stretched to either side of the body. And so the humans of Earth lost one of the two angels on their side.

_Rebellion has different forms and different causes, brother, and yours was too soft to make an impact._ The thought lingered softly like a sprinkling of flour as Lucifer left with a strong beat of his blood tipped wings.

On a lonely Indiana highway, there lived The Elysian Fields Hotel. A beautiful four star establishment, it sported the latest in interior design (solid oak desks with a waxy finish and tiny sculptures that border on pointless yet supposedly speak volumes) as well as catering the best to a vast yet select clientele. This clientele currently consisted of six dead gods, one dead archangel and a human part or twenty.


End file.
